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Casting the Husk
Written: August 26, 2026
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When I lose this lantern, let no mournful cry,
Nor grief-clad wail lament the soul set free;
My ribs release the breath that sought the sky,
And clay-bound chains shall fall away from me.
For I will be free
I am the fire no fetter ever held, or simper crept
The wing that soared beyond the walls that wept;
The dark was shallow, and the veil was frail—
I cast the husk; the cage is empty, pale.
For I will be free
I walk the path that heaven laid for me,
No seam, no parting—only light and grace;
Let not clay-born mourn my flight to foresee,
For dawn awaits beyond this darkened place.
For I will be free
So let no tolling bell or dirge proclaim,
I pass unbarred beyond the body frame;
The body was but a guest; I am the flame,
And dawn unseals the urn, beyond all name.
For I will be free
Don't cry for the heavenly wing or the clay.
I am the light that outlives the fading day;
Grieve not prison; let the soul that lives rise,
The soul lives on; only the husk dies;
For I will be free
Ask no door or tomb to stop my flight,
From dusk to eternity, I am free in light.
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